“Fuck you, too,” I said and started for the stairs.
He grabbed my arm. “Leigh, wait.”
I shook out of his grip and raced upstairs, the backs of my eyes burning something awful.
Jo was waiting for me on the porch. She took one look at me underneath the porch light then led me to Miguel’s car.
After she said hello to Miguel, Jo asked, “What did you do to the stupid prick, Leigh? Do I need to remind him of my nun chuck skills?”
Blood welled from my knuckles, so I wiped it on my plaid bondage pants.
“I punched him,” I said, my voice shaking slightly.
“Oh, God,” said Miguel, and he shifted in his seat as he pulled onto the road. “Do I want to know what happened?”
“Probably not,” Jo said. “When I get through with him, I’ll be a brotherless Jo.”
Miguel gave a nervous laugh and then quickly changed the subject. “Here’s the rules for the party. No flashlights. No screaming. We don’t want to attract the cops.”
No worries. I wouldn’t scream. But if anyone really tried to wake the dead, I would make them scream. Blood kept dotting my knuckles. I didn’t bother to wipe it away. Just thinking about them reminded me how much they hurt, how much I hurt.
Miguel parked at a darkened video store so we could walk the rest of the way to the cemetery. I pretended my bootlaces were untied and told Miguel and Jo to go on without me. They needed to be alone just as much as I did.
I retied my laces twice to give them a good head start. It took forever anyway because of the hellish pain stabbing through my knuckles every time I moved my punching hand.
A half-moon lit my way to the graveyard. My footfalls thudded against the road because there was no wind to drown out the sound. It was as if the night held its breath. Even the usual spring chorus of crickets had stopped. It wasn’t normal, and it didn’t feel right at all.
Maybe my steps were loud because Callum didn’t want to help me hold up my heart. It felt extra heavy because of him. Why did I let myself start to fall for him? I was an idiot for thinking he actually cared.
Jo and Miguel were waiting for me at the gate. As I drew closer, drunken laughter and loud voices drifted from the graveyard. Miguel held the gate open for us and closed it behind him. Someone probably busted the padlock with a crowbar. Good thinking.
Shadows and faceless people floated everywhere. Some sat on top of headstones while others sat in the branches of the trees and tongue wrestled. There were even some kids making out on top of graves. Beer cans and liquor bottles everywhere caught the light of the moon and reflected it back.
It seemed everyone was in the center of the graveyard and not along its edges where Mom’s grave was. If I found anyone making out on Mom’s grave, they would lose certain body parts.
Lily stood off to one side of the white, rocky path, glaring at me over her cell phone. She must’ve found out I’d punched her best friend’s boyfriend. I glared back until she looked away.
Jo and Miguel sat on the other side of the path.
“Come sit,” Jo said to me.
“I’m going…” I pointed in the direction of Mom’s grave.
Jo nodded, her eyes shining in the darkness.
“Miguel…” I started and ran a finger across my throat.
He held up his hands. “I know, I know. My head is at stake.”
Jo laughed. My mouth gave a weird jerk but couldn’t lift into a smile.
“I’ll be back,” I said then followed the path away from the party toward silence.
I almost walked right past Mom’s grave because at night, it looked like all the others. A green blanket of sod had been rolled across the top, and a headstone instead of the white plastic sign marked her place. Kneeling next to it, I ran my hand over the cool marble and brushed my fingertip over the front to feel the grooves of letters. The first letter was a K for Kassandra. I would just have to wait until the next day to properly see it with Dad and Darby.
Another pile of thorny twigs lay at the base of her headstone. My blood, already boiling with fury, heated my body to the temperature of lava. Without even looking, I knew everything I’d buried with Mom a few days before was under there. So much for burying Mom’s things deeper.
A fresh wreath of leaves rested next to the pile, and another white card rested underneath. I knew what the card said without looking at it, but I tilted it toward the moon anyway.
It can’t be you.
That message was getting old. Was Scary Boy incapable of coming up with anything else? Was he here so I could kill him?
After twisting Callum’s ring off my finger, I flipped the card over and scratched three letters into it with the edge of the metal.
WHY
I pinched some dirt from the ground and rubbed it on the card, hoping it would fill in the letters and darken them. Good enough. If Scary Boy couldn’t read it, oh well. I tucked the card underneath the leaves again.
Callum’s ring felt heavy in my stiff punching hand. I needed to get rid of the weight and of everything associated with him, so I clawed the fingers of my good hand at the earth over Mom. A sudden gust of wind flurried my hair into my eyes, and I raked it back.
Mom, it’s me. Boys are horrible, and I wish I could talk to you about it. But I still don’t want you to come back.
The hole wasn’t deep, but Scary Boy would just dig it up again anyway, so what did it matter? I dropped the ring in and pushed dirt on top of it.
This ring has lilacs on it. I think you’ll like it.
Someone gave a soft gasp. It wasn’t me, but I knew I heard it. I looked around, but no one was there. Did the gasp come from Sarah’s tree? Its silhouette looked as if someone had poured a year’s worth of night on it. It had the starless sky beat. Were my ears playing tricks on me again? Did Whaty-Whats sell lobotomy kits?
“Did you lose something?”
I yelped and jumped back. My heart shot into my throat.
A shadow walked toward me and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. But I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
As the shadow came closer, a torn t-shirt and ripped jeans completed the person. Then I recognized the bloody lip that matched my knuckles.
“I have nothing to say to you. Go home to your cheerleader.” I stood and brushed my good hand over my pants.
“Then just listen to me and you can punch me all you want when I’m done talking.”
“Fine.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Talk.”
He took a breath. “I like you, Leigh. I’ve liked you since you moved here six years ago.”
In the moonlight, his brown eyes flickered pain. But I was like the graveyard’s statues, cold and uncaring.
“But you never saw me, even when I was right in front of you. You were too busy acting cool and tough and being a rebel. Then you finally noticed I was here, but your timing sucks.”
My statue self cracked. “So this is all my fault?”
“Yes, it is. I’m graduating in a few weeks and leaving for college soon after that.”
“I’ll start counting down the seconds for you.”
“Leigh,” he said, grabbing my arm, “I broke up with Megan.”
I shook him off. “Is that supposed to make me happy? Should I jump your bones right now?”
“No, I—” He looked around, sniffing the air. “Shit. You smell that?”
I pushed my rage aside and breathed in. It was the same rotten meat in a dirty bathroom stink at Sarah’s house.
Shrill screams ripped through the night. A shiver of dread triggered an outbreak of goose bumps on my flesh.
“No,” I whispered and staggered away from Mom’s grave.
Callum reached for me. “What is it, Leigh?”
I took a ragged breath. My lungs filled with reeking death. “They’re waking up.”
Chapter Seven
I threw myself over Mom’s grave because if I shielded it with my entire body, maybe she wouldn�
��t be able to get out. I spread-eagled my arms and legs to try to cover every square inch. Another scream nearby slammed my heart against my ribcage, as if it was trying to escape, too.
Please don’t come back. Please don’t come back. Please don’t come back.
“What’s going on?” Callum whispered.
Please don’t come back. Please don’t come back. Please don’t come back.
“What are you doing down there?” Callum took my arm and pulled, but I shook him off. “Leigh, get up. I see flashing lights.”
I turned my head toward Callum’s kneeling figure. “You have to find Jo. Make sure she gets out.” As I put my head back down on the damp earth, a rock or something stabbed me in the cheek, but I didn’t care.
“You can’t stay here. If the cops find you, they’ll—”
“Callum, if you like me as much as you say you do, you’ll leave me here.”
He was silent for a long moment. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
“It is. Go find Jo.”
“Be careful.” He left me behind and disappeared into the darkness.
An eerie silence took his place next to me. I breathed in the dirt scent of Mom’s grave, hoping it would mask the growing rot smell. It didn’t, but her grave was peaceful and still beneath me, as it should be.
The beam of a flashlight skimmed over a path of white rocks a couple yards away. Then the light tipped up and blinded me.
“Hey, kid!” a deep voice hollered.
I pushed myself up and started running in the direction of the gate. Another flashlight beamed down a different path and found me, so I switched directions. Shit. Now I headed the wrong way, when all I wanted to do was go back to Mom. The cops would probably never understand my reasoning, though, and would only try to chase me off.
The moon offered my only light as I zigzagged between trees, headstones, and statues. Any of these things could slow my escape or break my face if I ran into them.
I chanced a look back and stopped, but no one was chasing me. Two flashlights aimed into a cluster of trees, several yards away. The light reflected off two cops’ badges and the brims of their hats. They both stared wide-eyed at whatever they looked at.
Was Mom’s grave over there? I’d lost my sense of direction in the darkness. Worry gnawed at me, and I crept closer, sticking to the shadows.
Faint whispers reached my ears. I peered around a tree trunk and saw the source. Instead of pulling me back, terror pushed me forward. In front of me were two Sarah look-alikes. I held onto a tree to keep from fainting. The growing stink tried to choke me, but I covered my mouth to keep quiet.
The two Sarahs knelt across from each other with their eyes closed. Their hands hovered over the ground in front of them, fingers curved like sharpened claws. Whispers came from their direction, but their black mouths sagged open without moving. Scraps of dingy clothing dangled from their scrawny bodies. Their pale skin glowed in the cops’ lights.
Bright red patches of hair hung to their waists. Sarah’s hair was white. Had two more people come back from the dead?
The grass was black below their knees and everywhere else the flashlight beams reached. I snatched my hand away from the tree in front of me. All the trees were now leafless and black, their gnarled limbs stretching into the night. The tips of the branches swayed in a breeze I didn’t feel. All the trees, except three of them. Three of them looked completely normal. Three.
A shudder rippled through me as I looked at the Sarahs again. Neither of them looked like Mom, but I needed to check on her.
I started to turn. The Sarahs’ eyes snapped open, and I froze. They glowed a bright blue. One of them swiveled her head around to look at the cops. She opened her dark mouth even wider and hissed. The cop flew backward and slammed into a tree. He fell into a heap without a sound, his flashlight spinning in the dirt next to him.
I slapped both hands across my mouth to keep from screaming.
The other cop ran off in the direction of the gate.
I backed away, unable to tear my eyes from the man at the base of the tree. One of the dead hissed again. I turned to run. Both pairs of glowing blue eyes fixed on me.
I sprinted out of there, but the ground shifted. Then something gave a loud crack.
The whispering and hissing grew louder. It surrounded me. Icy breath sighed against my cheeks. I darted a look to one side and saw blue eyes above a black mouth.
Oh my God, what was happening? I pumped my legs harder, but the ground shifted again, and I went sprawling. Violent shudders shook the earth. Blind in the darkness, I reached out for anything to keep me steady.
I fought to get up again, but the ground wouldn’t let me. Something brushed my leg. I felt its iciness through my pants as the touch tightened into an iron grip.
Then my body was jerked backward along the ground. I dug my fingers in to fight the pull, ripping out clumps of blackened, crispy grass, but I couldn’t stop myself. Horror flooded my body.
I looked behind me. A look-alike’s hand was curled around my ankle. She yanked again, and I slid toward her.
Another hiss. This time in front of me. The other look-alike knelt down and slid a frozen finger over my bloody knuckles before I could rip my hand from the twists of grass. I screamed, but the death smell cut it off with a gag.
The earth bucked again. Sharp cracks ricocheted beneath us. Unfazed, the look-alike in front nodded to the one in back, and a sharp jerk on my ankle dragged me past headstone after headstone. Faster and faster.
I scrambled for a handhold, anything, please anything! I kicked and tore and fought at the icy grip that held me. The other walked behind us and tilted her head one way then the other, like she was studying me. All I could see were her glowing eyes. I screamed again.
Fierce crashes below the ground mimicked the pump of my blood. Then tree roots burst from the earth, spraying me with dirt. They coiled up both look-alike’s legs and waists. Branches from nearby trees bent to the ground and weaved together to form nearly solid walls separating them from me. Blazing blue eyes peered through small cracks between the branches. Another tree limb slithered over the wrist of the one who still held me tight and cuffed it to the ground, forcing her to let me go.
The ground rumbled. Now free, I scrambled away from the look-alikes. Sharp cracks sounded behind me. My heart thundered. But I heard a voice.
“Hold on to me.”
Someone exhaled a warm breath on my neck and lifted me. My stomach lurched as the ground disappeared. I opened my mouth to scream, but only shaky breaths came out. We dropped, my stomach rocketing to my throat, and I threw my arms around the neck of the person who carried me. I felt a hood, like one on a sweatshirt.
Darkness enveloped us as we shot forward through complete darkness. The air whistled. There was a string of pops and a sort of shuffling. The smell of damp soil filled my nose. Cold grit struck my skin until someone’s hand shielded my face. Were we underground? We must’ve been, but I couldn’t open my eyes because of our speed.
We stopped. The suddenness of it snapped my eyes open. I gasped. We stood on the edge of the video store parking lot. Only a few cars remained.
I turned my face to Scary Boy’s. My arms were still wrapped around his neck even though he’d put me down. His mouth was too close to mine. The fierceness in his eyes seemed to flicker.
I shoved him away.
“What just happened?” I shouted, my volume cutting craters in the silence.
“I told you not to come to the cemetery at night. Do you ever listen?”
My breath came in quick pants. I was shaking so much, I didn’t think I would ever stop. “Who were they? And what did they want with me?”
“You buried something with your mother tonight, didn’t you?” The streetlight behind him sharpened the angles of his face and made him look somehow meaner and panicked at the same time. “I warned you, but you refused to listen.”
I rubbed the empty spot where Callum’s ring had been. �
�I had to.”
“Why?” he demanded.
Heavy footfalls pounded toward us. It was Callum, Jo, and Miguel. Relief snipped the snag in my lungs, and I breathed deep.
Jo threw her arms around me. “Are you okay?”
“I am now,” I said, pulling away to look at her. “Are you?”
“Yeah. We smelled…” She screwed up her face. “Something horrible and then people started screaming that Sarah was at the cemetery. The cops must have been nearby because they were there in two seconds. But Callum found me and Miguel, and we ran.”
“You didn’t see anything?” I asked.
“No. Did you?”
My mouth was too dry to answer, so I shook my head.
Callum glared at Scary Boy. “Who are you?”
Scary Boy glanced at me. “I’m Tram.”
“Tram who?” Callum asked, crossing his arms.
“Just Tram.”
“Just Tram.” Callum sneered and puffed up his chest like he wanted to pounce. “Are you fucking with me?”
“Callum,” I said, but I could hardly get his name out through my clenched teeth.
Scary Boy—I mean Tram—diced Callum to pieces with his sharp eyes. “No.”
Callum jerked his chin toward me. “How do you know Leigh?”
“Callum Monroe, take off your dirty socks and stuff them in your mouth,” Jo warned and gave him an icy glare. “Please excuse my brother, Tram. I’m Jo. This is Miguel. You already know my dear brother Cal. And you know Leigh. How do you know Leigh?”
Tram and I shared a look. “I’m a friend of the family.” He stuck out his hand. “And a friend to Leigh’s friends.”
Jo pumped his hand up and down with a grin stretched across her face. Miguel shook his hand, too, but Callum stood like a statue, his eyes pointing bullets.
“We better go before more cops come,” Miguel said, his arm circling Jo’s waist.
“I don’t want to be anywhere near Sarah if she really is at the cemetery.” Jo hugged herself and scooted closer to Miguel. “Ready?”
Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels Page 7
